“You want to do this, Mac?” the CO asked in disbelief.
“Payback, sir,” MacDonald said, stone-faced. “I left a bunch of good boys down there. Lost more up here while I was running for my life. Hell yes I want to take them out, sir.”
“Nuke it from orbit,” the XO said. “Only way to be sure.”
“Granite’s tough stuff, sir,” Runner said. “It would take a full-yield ardune system to be sure of cracking it. Probably why it’s made of granite. Take it out and you’re pretty much going to take out the city.”
“And if we pop one inside?” the CO asked.
“The granite’s going to absorb most of it,” Bill said. “Trust me on this, I’ve done nuclear design. Granite that big, less than fifty kilotons? It’s going to shatter it and maybe toss some around. Not much. And ardune’s pretty clean stuff. Not even much fall-out.”
“Captain, sorry, Tactical again,” Lieutenant Souza said, nervously. “It’s Lady Che-chee, the queen and some of her guards. They’re getting pretty close.”
“Tell the COB to get a party up on the sail hatch,” the CO said. “I’ll receive her there.”
“Okay, okay,” he continued, looking at the group. “If you really want to do this, Mac, you can do this. But you need to leave soon. Get every clerk and jerk in armor. We don’t have enough boards, though.”
“Some arriving, sir,” Bill said. “And I suspect they’re going to be willing to loan us some…”
“This is a bold plan, Captain Blankemeier,” the queen said.
Most of her party was clearly overwhelmed by the ship. But the queen along with Lady Che-chee and General Chuk-tuk just as clearly refused to appear surprised. The queen had allowed the captain to escort her to the wardroom, disdained the apologies for the conditions and then listened, carefully, to the translation of the plan. Actually, it couldn’t really be called a plan. The synopsis. The outline. The guess.
“Can you not leave?” the queen asked.
“Our ship has sustained damage,” Spectre admitted. “We could run home, possibly, but we’d rather repair damage first and…”
“And… ?” Miriam asked.
“Just translate it as closely as possible,” the CO said.
“And you don’t care to run away with your tail down,” the queen said, her nose pulling back.
“That too,” the CO admitted.
“Why do you tell me?” the queen asked.
“First of all, the weapon we are going to use is going to do damage beyond the mountain,” the CO said. “We could strike the mountain from space and remove the threat entirely and with no danger. But that would destroy your capital as well.”
“You have weapons that powerful?” General Chuk-tuk asked. “And yet you fight on the ground.”
“Different needs, sir,” Commander Weaver said.
“Yes, we do,” the CO said. “But by putting it in the mountain, it will do less damage. Less, not none.”
“I see,” the queen said, nodding. “The Demons will wipe us out entirely. Do it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the CO said. “We also need three or four more boards. We’re going to drop all our remaining Marines from up here.”
“You have them,” the queen said. “I will lead this force.”
“No you will not,” General Chuk-tuk said. “You will remain safe on this ship. I am your war-leader. I can be lost. You cannot. Your Daughter is still a Breeder—”
“I am your queen—”
“Ma’am,” Weaver cut in. “The general’s right, you’re not. Don’t go gettin’ your fur in a fluff. And, General, with all due respect, I think you should send Lady Che-chee. She’s younger, fitter and less important than you while still being of high enough station that you have participation.”
“Are you sure you want me to translate that?” Miriam said.
“What did he say?” the queen squeaked imperiously.
“You won’t like it,” Miriam said, then translated.
The queen flicked her ears indignantly as General Chuk-tuk smoothed her whiskers in satisfaction, then squeaked in laughter when the general’s nose went back in a snarl.
“Yes,” the queen said, still squeaking in laughter. “The commander has it. Lady Che-chee, do you accept this quest?”
“With delight, Your Majesty,” the Lady said. “But we must make haste. The Demons seem to have retreated for now, but they will be back.”
“Agreed,” the CO said. “My Marines are suiting up now. Commander Weaver, defer most tactical decisions to Captain MacDonald. I hope we all agree that the ground commander is Commander Weaver?”
“Agreed,” Lady Che-chee said. “Your Majesty, could I take a contingent of guards?”
“Ten,” General Chuk-tuk said. “No more.”
“Problem,” Miriam said. “I can’t be in two places at once. None of the Cheerick, that I’m aware of, speak English. Someone is going to have to translate on the boat and someone is going to have to translate on the ground.”
“We try Ekish,” the queen squeaked. “Ko fit.”
“Miss Moon is not a fighter,” Commander Weaver pointed out.
“Is fit,” the queen squeaked. “Ko.”
“Miss Moon?” the CO asked.
“I think I have to go with the ground force,” Miriam said, standing up. “I’ll meet you in ten minutes in the Wyvern bay.”
“I think she’s going to go panic,” Miller said as she left the room.
“I think I’m going to panic,” Weaver said.
33
“Keep the links straight!” Berg said. “If there’s a kink, the gun will jam.”
“Got it,” Sub Dude said, straightening out the chain of rounds. “Have fun.”
“This is not my definition of fun,” Berg said, resetting his gun controls. On the last test they had been running about a degree off parallax. Most of this was probably going to be short-ranged, but…
“Holy maulk,” Hatt said quietly.
“What?” Berg said, looking around. His eyes went wide, though, at the sight.
It was hard to describe, even to himself, but Miss Moon had changed. Something in the walk, the face. Subtle but impossible to miss. She strode across the compartment, ignoring the looks and the sudden cessation of movement and walked up to Berg.
“Two-Gun,” she said, looking up at the towering PFC. “My Wyvern needs a gun. And I need someone to carry it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Berg said, popping to attention. All the “mission specialists” rated officer rank, but nobody really treated them that way. Until now. “I’ll be right back.”
When he got back, Marines were falling all over themselves to ready the linguist’s Wyvern. Two were loading ammo, another was checking the traversing mechanism, a fourth was doing a check of the circuitry. Miriam was standing watching the activity with her hands behind her back.
Berg mounted the Gatling, nodded at her, then returned to his own system.
He hadn’t noticed Lurch follow him back from the armory but as he started to enter his Wyvern, the armorer walked up with two pistols in his hands.
“You forgot your real guns, Two-Gun,” Lurch said, holding them out.
“Gatlings have done it so far, Lyle,” Berg said.
“Take the guns, Two-Gun,” Top said, walking up. “I’ll mount them.”
“If you say so, First Sergeant,” Berg said, getting out. “I’ll mount them. Lyle, I need my reloads.”
“We’ve done some dumbass things in our time, buddy,” Miller said, settling his Gatling in position. “But this about takes the cake.”